They Said It Better Than I Ever Could...


These words that I write, they keep me from total insanity. -Charles Bukowski

Who is the happier man, he who has braved the storm of life and lived, or he who has stayed securely on shore and merely existed? -Dr. Hunter S. Thompson

Feb 25, 2009

My Life Is Just Like A Car Crash, But The Stories Are Good..

Barely graduated from high school, Why? Because I never went to school.

Beat one of my best friends to a bloody pulp for calling my mother fat.

Started doing copious amounts of illegal drugs at the tender young age of 15.

Flunked out of college.

Been arrested, or at least detained by the police on no less than six occasions.

Joined the Army.

Went overseas.

Went to Mexico and learned that all the stories about Mexican police and jails are absolutely true.

Fell in love.

Got married.

Fell out of love.

Got divorced.

Got out of the Army.

Got a job tending bar. (Brilliant idea for a guy who’s stories almost invariably begin with, “So I was drunk one night...)

Graduated from college. (Summa Cum Laude no less.)

Got a job in a prison. (Kind of funny. Most people would think that I would be living there.)

Now I am here...

I guess that’s about it, or at least that’s all I am going to share right now. Mostly to keep from ruining the reputation that I have built with my wonderful readership. I gave you the highlights. I had to leave a few things out just because I don’t want to have to answer the questions they would lead to, nor did I want to arouse the interest of any law enforcement professionals who may be working on cold cases.

I got some time today, because we can’t go anywhere because about 6 raindrops fell so they grounded all the birds. And I couldn’t help but take a giant step backward and look at all that has happened over the past 15 years or so.

It’s been fun to say the least.

But I can’t help but think of home when they give me this kind of time to ponder all that has happened in my life. Easily the stupidest thing you can do while you are in a place like this, is think about home. It’s almost as though you need to forget that the place even exists in order to keep yourself from losing your damn mind. And if you aren’t careful that is exactly what will happen.

Still I can look back over it all, and there has been quite a bit, and think that whether good or bad, I lived this life that the good Lord was nice enough to hand me. The only problem now is that I realize that fact and cannot get around the idea that I may owe a little something in return for it...

I can’t write about this anymore, my head hurts.

Later,

I love you mom...

2 comments:

  1. mudpuppy...You are exactly who I thought you were. I have no doubt there are stories of the stories! It's all good, what fun is a closet without skeletons?
    This was a really good post!
    ~AM

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  2. Raindrops keep falling on my head,
    And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed,
    Nothing seems to fit,
    Those raindrops keep falling on my head,
    They keep falling.

    Does the rain keep the banker's home or do they have to work the swing shift?

    ReplyDelete